


Filtered

by Creeper_Keaton



Series: Hearth Heart [2]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, Family Bonding, Holidays, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Who am I kidding these guys are dorks, awkward moments, butterfly bog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5322827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creeper_Keaton/pseuds/Creeper_Keaton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Semester One is finished, and now there's a new challenge ahead; surviving the holidays with one hell of a familial mix. On top of all that, Bog and Marianne are still trying to discover just how deep their love runs, family commentary be damned- should be a trip, right?</p><p>Sequel to Toe The Line, but it's probably not a required read to understand these dweebs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Gift I Give to Thee

**Author's Note:**

> Time for part two! This is actually just in time for the holidays; not often I manage to time that right!
> 
> Anyway, they had lots of time to oogle each either; now, they need to work on that whole romance thing. All bets are off.

# This Gift I Give to Thee

###### 

Broden 'Bog' King was a private man. At 32 years old, he preferred to only express himself to others by yelling, and though he was now quite the champion at it there were times when a different touch was needed. Times like, say, pressing your ear against your bedroom door as you listened for your mother, hoping and praying that she couldn't hear your very personal phone call.

"I don't hear a thing, but tha' doesn't mean a thing, Marianne."

"C'mon, live on the edge. She won't catch us."

His girlfriend-not girlfriend (they really needed to define this relationship if his heart was going to leap at that thought every time) was sorely convincing, and he allowed his hand to leave the door. Of course it only travelled far enough to rub the bridge of his nose, glasses sliding with the motion.

"C'mon, Bog. Take a chance! Do something crazy!"

"Fine, fine! 'Course it would be you, throwin' out fate-temptin' crazy plans." And he hissed at her, impetuous imp, phone switching sides as he quickly crossed his room and jumped onto his bed. Walking across the surface until he could bodily drop against the wall, he nervously glanced at the closed bedroom door. Curse his mother's rules of no locks in the house... "We have to make this quick, Tough Girl."

"Oh please, you can't get enough of me."

His face coloured and he coughed into his fist, her teasing laugh making his lips twitch up. Brat. "Quick. See you in a moment."

He dropped the phone easily, opening up his computer as Skype booted up. He hadn't seen Marianne, face-to-face, since their world-shattering kiss just under a week prior. He'd still had to catch his flight, and she had had enough sense to return home instead of hopping a plane like his mad mind had suggested. That didn't mean he didn't regret her not following him, but... If all worked out, things might just go his way after all...

He felt anxiety build as the dialing rang out, a hand sweeping his carefully styled hair back as he waited. He didn't fully like the idea of Skype, his face all too visible and stark on a silly computer screen. Even with eyes as fond as hers there were still deep, lingering doubts. He was still waiting for her to realize who he was, what he looked like, and terminate this... relationship before it could even really begin.

She did say she loved his eyes, though.

_His eyes!_

He threw himself to the side just as her face flickered onto the screen, hand making a mad grab for his glasses as he lobbed them across the bed cover. She didn't need to see him any more flawed than she already had.

"Bog...? Are you okay- Wow, do I affect you that much?"

He crawled back into a sitting position, his preened hair a complete mess and his cheeks in a ruddy flush. "Sorry, here, all good." She took one look at his state, his eyes downcast and hands fiddly, and burst out laughing. His face flooded with colour, and he could feel his ears burning. "Yer supposed ta be quiet, Marianne. If mah mother hears you..."

She continued laughing, and his heart gave a funny little leap at her tiny snorts. It was so far from ladylike but it was adorable. Wiping roughly at her eyes, the little video Marianne grinned at him. "If your mother saw you now, talking to me looking like that-"

"There would be hell to pay, Tough Girl. She'd think-"

"Oh my god with your hair-"

"You giggling like a loon-"

"The assumptions she'd make-"

"Which is why we hush, you mouthy wee thing. I did have a few things I wanted to say before our cover was blown."

Batting her eyelashes, just a tad, with a flirtatious aura that was anything but sincere, "Oh, were you rehearsing your speech to me?" -had him groan and rub the bridge of his nose. The action must have caught her attention because she leaned forward. His glance made him think that maybe she was suspicious, but between the small video image and his lack of glasses it was hard to tell. She harumphed suddenly, crossing her arms. "Bog..."

Dropping his hand, he quirked an eyebrow. "Aye?"

"Were you wearing _glasses?_ " His eyes widened and of course- _of course_ \- she'd be observant enough to see the marks left on the bridge of his nose. Woman couldn't see how amazing she was, that he looked at her like she was the moon and stars, but she could see those. His silence was answer enough because her eyes widened comically. "Was that what the whole side dodge was? Oh my god you dweeb!" And he felt truly miserable now, hands awkwardly fluttering as he glanced aside. Her voice broke through, quiet but insistent. "You can wear them around me, you goof. I bet you'll look amazing."

There was a longer moment of fluttering before he sighed, weighted and chest-heaving, before he leaned to the side and fished the heavy-framed glasses. If he would have watched her face as he slipped them on, he may have felt a burst of confidence at her shocked, heated look. It wasn't until a quiet 'wow' sounded that he even flicked his eyes up.

"You really have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Brows lowering dramatically he swallowed. "Me? How could I-"

"Yes you, dork. Why didn't you wear those in school? You look-" She made a wild, awkward gesture as her eyes darted over his face. Glasses on, he could most assuredly see her eyes flitting.

He blushed even more, vaguely wondering if his current heat level and proximity to his laptop would set the machine on fire. "It's easier to, ah, take pictures. With contacts. Became a habit, I guess."

"From now on, wear 'em. Just- please." And she looked serious, serious enough that a chunk of his insecurity dwindled away. He found himself unhunching a tad, chest even sticking out a bit in pride. She _liked_ him.

It was enough for him to build confidence for his important question, and even though he was more than nervous he cleared his throat. "Ah, Marianne, a question... Well, a gift actually. Ah mean, if ye want ta accept it, ye duin't have-"

"Bog. Breathe"

"Ri'aight. Uh. Ahem. _Breathe..._. Marianne." Reaching for his bedside endtable and trying to keep his eyes on hers, he rummaged but couldn't come up with what he was looking for. He ended up reaching a bit farther and with a flash of panic raw on his face he pitched to the side. At least she managed not to snort; at least, if she did his yelp covered it. Fumbling with awkwardness he finally grabbed the envelope and sat straight. A small, almost playful glare had her draw a deep gasp to cover her giggles and she watched with gleaming eyes. Seeing she was behaving appropriately, he continued. "Marianne. Ah got a gift for ye, an early, ah, _Christmas_ gift. Ah'd like ta give it to you now?"

Her nod had him looking at the envelope, innocent and ambiguous in his lap. It took so little effort to flip it open, and he felt a mix of excitement and nerves as he pulled the stiff cardstock out. "If ye want, Marianne, Ah'd love for you ta join me and my mother for the holidays." Holding them up, covering his lower face, he peered over the top of the plane tickets and watched her reaction.

Her face flickered through a myriad of emotions; shock, excitement, nervousness, and a good underlying of guilt. He cut through her thoughts by flipping the tickets, revealing two more hidden behind the first. Lowering them enough to smile, he added an almost cheeky, "Of course, your family is free t'join."

She looked shocked. More than that, perhaps, maybe even frozen, but there was a glint in her eyes, an excitement that let him keep his hopes strong.

She sat straighter, eyes determined. "All right, Bog King. I'll make you a deal." Her eyes were bright with happiness even as her face kept a regal stoicness. "I will talk to my family, and I will try to convince them to accept your offer. In return, you are going to answer so many questions. _So many._ I mean, we're gonna be spending Christmas together, after all."

Her blooming smile pulled his slanted grin into a full, awestruck look. He nodded mutely, eyes softening as her head ducked. It was- amazing, to be able to look at her like this, feel like this, and know that she enjoyed it. She saw him staring at her and she flourished under it.

His voice was husky as he replied, heart picking up the pace at the sight of her blushing and pulling her lip between her teeth. "Ah would lofe nothin' more than ta answer whatever ye got for me, Tough Girl. If tha's the only price for yer company, Ah'd pay it time an' again."

"Oh my god you smooth-talking tree. Way too much sap." But she smiled widely nonetheless.

"Ah, ye love it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I really do." And gods her eyes were so soft, the warmth finally matching the colour of honey, his heart couldn't handle this, how she stared at him in awe-

"BRODEN KING GET YER BEHIND OUT HERE! DINNER'S READY!"

He flinched heavily, eyes darting to the door as his hand instinctively flew to the top of the laptop. "Ah gotta go, Ah'd like an evening o' silence before she knows you're comin'."

"Oooh no, you're not getting out of this- Your name is _Broden-?!_ "

"Later, Tough Girl!" He was already closing the screen as he whisper-shouted, "Text me later we'll talk details!" and he was alone in the suddenly dark room, not even a full four-second count before his mother screeched again.

Whipping open his bedroom door with a bellow ( _Ah'm bloody well comin', mother!_ ), he pointedly ignored the bright flashing of his cell phone, innocently sitting on his bed.

She was going to kill him.

A wide, feral grin stretched across his face. Oh, she would try, and he would _welcome_ it.

###### 

I'm being plagued by little ideas for these dorks, good lord. I hope this story comes out at least interesting for everyone, and I really hope you guys enjoy!

Honestly so excited to write Dagda. He needs some redemption moments. And speaking of, I'm planning another story that will have lots of Dagda. I think you guys might enjoy it. I hope so!

Thanks for the read, and have a great week!


	2. Arrivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of filler in a way, because sorry they _still_ haven't even made it to the house. Think of this as the family ice-breaker. Well. Part One. The Griselda Family Ice-Breaker next chapter deserves the capitals.
> 
> She's gotta make sure this girl is good enough for her boy, after all.

# Arrivals

###### 

All things considered, Marianne didn't hate Christmas. Sure, she hated crowds, pushy people, expensive gift purchases... Of course, the false festive cheer was bad, mistletoe was stupid...

Okay so she held a grudge on the holiday. Tiny one.

Perhaps that was why her family was completely shocked at her good cheer to this point. All of that Christmas humbug attitude and she was still smiling like a crazy person as they wove through airport crowds. She could hear Dawn giggling behind her, overjoyed at the chance to sing holiday cheer without reprimand, and further back her father's exasperated 'girls, wait!' But she was too excited by then.

Express mail was a wonderful thing, because Bog- Broden, wow, yep, _still weird_ \- had gotten the tickets to them in record time. She'd hassled Dawn to go with her, which wasn't necessary because the bubbly blonde immediately squealed an affirmative. Their father, faced with two pairs of earnest eyes, only lasted two days before caving and saying they could go.

The surprise was him saying he was joining them.

She had to give it to him, her father really had been trying since the renewed 'Roland Incident'. He'd written a scathing letter to the blonde git's family, a very firm request that he not step within sight if her, quite heavy on the threats. When she'd been shown the letter it became a lot easier to see the familial similarities; her father was terrifying when he wanted to be. Of course she pointed out it was very likely a simple threat wouldn't keep the pig away for long, whiiiich was why he'd gone ahead and hired her a trio of attendants. It felt strange calling them 'body guards', but it was perhaps a more accurate representation.

They'd gotten off on an awkward footing, the trio being as fashion-savvy and chattery as Dawn. But when Marianne discovered they had hand-to-hand combat experience she spent hours learning from them. She was proud to say she could probably beat anyone who dared to think she was just another girl. Point in fact she was almost hoping someone dare try to start a brawl with her, something she proudly stated at the price of an exasperated groan from her father.

It still didn't seem the best option to bring them along on the Scotland adventure, skills be damned; Dagda had suggested they stay behind to watch Roland whilst he himself went along to protect his 'little girls'. Dawn was taking the whole thing like one magical family adventure. Marianne had her doubts.

There wasn't time to fuss over it anymore because the crowds parted just enough for her to get a glimpse of the arrivals seating area. She craned her neck over the milling people, trying to catch sight of a familiar gangly figure without luck. Spinning around she waved frantically at her family. "Can you guys grab the luggage while I find our ride?"

Dawn threw her a thumbs up, hooking Dagda's arm as she dragged him with a saucy wink to her sister. "Have fuuun Marianne!"

She rolled her eyes, spinning around towards arrivals once more. Crowds hadn't thinned in the slightest so she shoved through, smile pulling at her lips without her say so.

_He was here._

After months of building tension, of crushing on the stupid lamp-post. After that amazing, leg-jellifying kiss. After hours of sneaked secret Skype calls, his expression impossibly soft or dashingly fierce. After seeing him in those _damned_ glasses...

There was no one emotion to describe the jolt that raced through her when she finally saw him. He was stretched in a seat too small for his frame, back not touching the chair he was scooted so close to the edge, head tipped over the back as his legs stretched for miles in front of him. The long line of his body was... tantilyzing, throat bared and ridiculously distracting. His arms were crossed loosely over his hips, only drawing attention to the slope of narrow hips to broad shoulders. He shifted and her eyes traced him, hand slinking across his stomach and trailing over his thigh. It was an innocent movement, simply pulling his cellphone out of his jean pocket, but it stole her breath.

Realizing she'd been staring long enough to warrant concern from other waiting people, she shook herself free and desperately ignored the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Getting closer, she saw that he'd closed his eyes (and the glasses, he was wearing them!) after a brief peek at his phone, leaving him unaware.

The uncomfortable heat in her belly gave way to mischief, and she went from a sashaying walk to an immediate creep. Silently edging closer she sidled up behind him, his face tipped up towards her as she carefully pulled a pen out of her purse. The cap came off without a sound and her mouth stretched into an absolutely evil grin as she brought the pen tip towards his upper lip.

"Don't."

She jolted back, one of his eyes opening to catch hers and keeping her from completely bolting. A bit disappointed at having her prank spoiled she dropped her hands to her sides, pen forgotten and head cocking as she studied him. Both eyes had opened, but he made no move to sit up and the line of his jaw was so pronounced from the angle. She moved forward, one hand tracing that line as his eyes slipped closed once more. Her other hand framed his face, thumbs brushing the corners of his mouth and he exhaled shakily. Lowering her head, lips almost tracing his ear, his body arched slightly towards her and there was more than _one_ way to skin a cat-- "You look ridiculous in that chair, Broden."

He almost slid off, fingers locking on the seat beside him as he pulled away to glare at her with burning eyes. Probably couldn't appreciate a good joke, the loser. "So nice to see you again, you wench. And it's Bog. Please. If you insist otherwise, I'll print you walkin' directions, or would you rather me direct you to the closest taxi instead? Ah never have to tell you where the car is."

"You're driving us? Here I thought you'd have hired a limo, use the rest of that pillow-stash."

"What, you want me to call the limo? I had it on standby jus' in case."

Her eyes narrowed, trying to tell if his quirked eyebrow was a lie-tell or not, when a squeal broke out. "Boggy! I missed you so much!"

His expected and highly irritated "Bog!" was cut off as the tiny blonde tackled him with a hug, and his continued grip on the chair was all that kept the pair from toppling to the floor. His other hand held her for a brief moment, returning her enthusiastic hug as she smacked a kiss to his cheek. Marianne snapped a picture merrily with her phone.

"That's normally my role, Tough Girl. Give a guy a hand?" He made a joking motion about prying Dawn off but she pulled away with a giggle and a playful swat. She was cut off on her response when Dagda finally caught up, trailing the luggage Dawn had left him with.

"I must say, I truly appreciate the assistance, girls." His tone was dry, and the effect it had on the Scot was instantaneous.

Bog scrambled to his feet, eyes wide in mild panic as he stepped forward anxiously. He looked torn between grabbing for the luggage or Dagda's hand, finally settling on taking the pink roller from Dagda's right hand and thrusting his own forward. "Er, it's a, uh- pleasure ta see ye ag'in, Mr. Fields."

The tableau was interesting, Bog hunkered and awkward with one long-fingered hand thrust out, the other clutching tightly at a sparkly pink bag. Dagda cluttered with a number of bags, both glittery and plain, as he stared up at the guy who stole Marianne's heart. She sucked a breath in, watching as her father studied Bog until finally he let slip a tight smile and clasped the offered hand.

"Indeed it is. Thank you for your offer, for having us this Christmas."

The words were stilted but neither man looked on the verge of killing the other so Marianne finally let her breath out. Dawn stepped up, catching both her father's arm and attention as she snagged a shoulder bag. The younger threw a look over her shoulder, eyes flicking to Bog before meeting with hers. The drastic eyeroll at Marianne's returned and wordless ' _what?'_ was as close to exasperated as Dawn could come, but still she pulled at their father, keeping his attention solely on herself. Glancing once more at Bog, seeing his still very unsettled look, she took pity on him and lightly punched his shoulder. His attention flicked to her, eyes softening in that way she'd become familiar with on a screen and suddenly that heat was back, _she was not ready for the effect he had for her in person..._ He ducked his head, obviously feeling awkward about her undoubtedly attractive gaping, and she couldn't help it anymore. Marianne took the opportunity of his hunched shoulders and lowered head, hand tracing Bog's jaw until he was looking at her, albiet a tad shell-shocked and confused. Her free hand grabbed the front of his sweater, tugging him slightly until the confusion cleared and he leaned to her, mouth brushing against hers softly.

No matter how strong the urge was to stand on her toes, press her mouth harder to his and chase the heat of him deeper, she figured subjecting her father to that while they were still in the airport might force him to buy return tickets then and there. So she pulled back from the chaste kiss, heart pounding like she'd run a marathon, and lightly patted his chest as she ducked her head. "Nice seeing you again, by the way."

His hand traced her face, fingers brushing against her neck and she shivered as they traced the column of her throat, leaning into his touch with a kind of desperation she really didn't know existed in her. There was a slight **ahem** from her father and Bog snapped ramrod straight, those devilish hands nervously smoothing down his sweater. "Yes, right, ah- This way. The car is this way."

She grinned apologetically at her father, but Dagda wasn't watching her so much as letting his eyes flick between the two of them. She felt a blush settle as she swiped the bag from Dawn, anything to distract her as she set after Bog.

His hand was nervously picking at his jeans (jeans tight enough for her to want to drool over them _how was that even fair_ ) and she took a chance at pushing her father's luck, just a tad. Stepping beside Bog she reached over and laced her fingers with his, smiling shyly up at him. There were no sounds of complaint from behind them, and his smile was one full of awe, so she took what she could get.

Leaning against his arm she felt that smile pulling again. "This is going to be the best Christmas ever."

A slight shift, a tiny stumble, and she looked up in time to see him grin a bit awkwardly. Her eyes narrowed and he glanced away. "How would ye feel about the best Christmas/ Hanukkah ever?"

"...What?"

###### 

Because they really, honestly would be Jewish. And Marianne has yet another question to add to the bonfire that is her Bog grilling.

I want to play with Dagda's character a bit, so if anyone has any headcanons they want to share feel free to shoot 'em at me! I fully believe he's dead-set on doing whatever's best for his girls, even if it's not always what they think is best. I'll be playing that aspect, but I'd like to hear your views too!

Also the pixie trio totally can fight; they **are** Marianne's training buddies. I plan on sneaking them in here and there.

As always, I hope you enjoyed! Still so nervous posting things, ah!


	3. Welcoming Committee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was totally the hardest chapter to write and I just kept writing tiny segments, altering them, and then weeping quietly. So I apologize, and the quick conversation at the beginning here will _not_ be the only chat they have, no worries. Mr. Grumpy-pants Bog has quite a bit of explaining to do, after all.

# Welcoming Committee

###### 

Out of courtesy, the passenger seat in Bog’s truck had gone to Dagda; four-door though the beast was he really didn’t want to put the man he was supposed to be impressing in the back. Added bonus was that it kept Marianne’s increasingly probing questions confined to that same back seat. Of course, stubborn wee thing that she was, leaning between the front seats as much as possible was not beneath her, and she took advantage of pestering away the hour-long drive from airport to house.

”Why didn’t we discuss religion again?

”Oh my gods did I ever feed you anything offensive?!”

”Does your mother know we’re not Jewish?”

”Were you afraid to tell me?”

"Will I have time to buy the appropriate amount of gifts?”

Jesus she may as _well_ be sitting beside him. He’d tried ‘drowning’ her out with radio, but the constant stream of Christmas music was grating, not to mention Dawn would immediately drop her cellphone to sing along. During one particularly favoured song she’d even called Sunny to add his harmonizing voice on speaker. Dagda, thankfully, remained mostly quiet beside him, an eternally grand gift from the universe. The man was intimidating in an ‘I-love-your-daughter-are-we-okay-with-this’ kind of way. When the road sign promising Collessie finally came along, he turned the music right down and cleared his throat before speaking with the cadence of a professional public speaker.

”I only bought you one gift, only one gift in return. I was not afraid to tell you, it just never came up. Mother knows, she probably bought a Christmas tree for you. You have never fed me anything I didn’t want to eat, and you hate pork sausage. The hash was made with lamb; yes I could see you panicking from here. As for why it was never discussed? It’s not important. I didn’t ask you to visit me because I wanted ta push views on you. I asked because I wanted you all to share the holidays with me and mine. Does that clear anything up, Tough Girl?”

Her brow was lowered in concentration; he liked to think she was both checking her memory to see if she’d asked anything else, and mentally praising him for actually remembering it all. Finally she nodded, a movement he caught as he repeatedly peeked at her in the rearview, and he sighed with relief.

”Glad we can see eye te eye, because we’re here.”

The sprawling uphill road was rustic and aged, much like the rest of Collessie, which was what made the large abode stand out all the more. Perhaps he should have given some warning about his house, but he figured he’d already tipped her off about religious views. Might as well keep some surprises in store. Plus it was a delight to hear the collective gasp from his American friends. Even Dagda let out a soft _whoosh_ of air. Dawn's weak voice was the kicker though.

"Holy wow did you totally just pull a 'Proposal' on us?"

It was by no means a mansion in Alaska, his house on the hill, but the charming mix of hewn stone and washed yellow exterior made it notable. A newer roof than surrounding buildings, plus an entire wall of windows reflecting the mid-morning light indeed had it gleaming like the stately house it was. Pulling into the steep driveway with an ease earned by years of practice he threw the truck in park and craned his neck back to look at the pair of pixies. His smile was welcoming, but his eyes spoke only of mischief. “Ah know it’s not much, but I do hope ye’ll be comfortable.”

Marianne sputtered at him, once again looking up at the towering house. The driveway did lend to one of the best views of the front of the building, earth-coloured cut stone leading to a grand wooden door. Though the glass wall was around the side, multiple windows still peeked from the heights. He was certain he saw a curtain move and he held back a sigh. Best get them inside so they couldn’t run from his mother quite so easily.

He allowed them to scramble out, pulling luggage out of the trunk as they surveyed the place they’d be staying for the next two weeks. Marianne came around to meet him, her hands gesturing wildly towards the front door. “What, I mean- _This_ is your house?! This huge-“ She cut off, rubbing her temple lightly. “So, so much explaining.”

Shouldering a number of bags he grinned at her. “A’least I was telling the truth about the whole ‘ogre’ thing, eh? Not a swamp in sight.” Stepping around her to eye Dawn struggling in the out-of-season mud with her dainty, fashionable slippers, he allowed a slight smile before tossing a casual comment back at the brunette. “We tried buildin’ there first; damn place fell over and sank in.”

”Wha- Are you- Oh. Oh so clever. You think you’re funny but you’re not!” He noted she was shaking a fist at him but not acknowledging was far more humourous. 

Watching Dawn try to extricate her tiny feet from the mud-and-snow mix was almost getting painful, and he shook his head as he walked towards her. To be fair he'd been prepared for the muddy state of the yard; it was actually below freezing in America, whereas Collessie had been enjoying only-just freezing temperatures. "Here, lemme give ye a hand with all this luggage; I'll take this wee parcel here." Shifting the load of bags to one side of his body he casually walked beside her, crouching low until he could pull her onto his shoulder. She squeaked, but being free from the mucky ground was enough of a relief that she accepted the free ride with only mild complaining and a happy laugh.

Leaving the other two to grab the remaining luggage (and hopefully close his truck) he opened the door, setting Dawn down in an admittedly ornate mudroom as blonde gasped at the hint of entry hall she could already see. His mother was waiting, eyes lit up as she took in the young woman. Dawn, for her part, stared around with a gaping mouth at the darkwood floors and exposed brick before letting out a squeal of delight. He made a slight gesture for her to go ahead, which she took with a tight hug around his torso before kicking her shoes off violently and making for the hall.

"Is that your girl?"

Shaking his head at Dawn's antics he walked over to his mother, dropping a kiss to the top of her head even as the smile slipped off her wide mouth. He didn't have time to respond, point at the pair still out in the cold and yet visible through the open door, before his mother waved a hand at Dawn dismissively. "Not your type. I'm gonna go fire up that dating site again, just in case."

"No no no mother no need f'r that!" Guiding the smaller woman back with an awkward grimace he planted her within three feet of Dawn, the little thing not far off on her self-led tour yet. "This, mother, is _Dawn_. Marianne's still outside, so le's wait before we fire up the computer, aye?"

Dark eyes narrowed at him, but his mother indeed stayed put. He silently thanked any higher power listening that the situation hadn't gotten any more awkward. Giving Dawn a forced grin- she looked curious but was getting distracted again after a simple, chipper hello to his mother- he went to lean outside, mouth opening to call his sprite of a girlfriend.

Naturally she saw this as a perfect opportunity to pelt him in the face with muddy, filthy slush.

Sputtering wildly he ran hands over the mess, flinging it to the side, his blazing blue eyes find her. She was cackling maniacally, and it was a point to Dagda's intelligence that the man wisely stepped out of the way. Bog lunged forward, arm curling around her waist as the other pinned her arms, and headed for the sizeable snowpile heaped beside the driveway; proof of two hours' worth back-breaking shovelling. She caught on to his plan, and he did nothing to hide it, but her struggling was futile.

With a crow of triumph he launched her high.

With a back-breakingly acrobatic move she twisted enough to grab his scarf.

One wild-eyed panic attack and he was suddenly sprawled face-first in the pile, hands grabbing to keep his sweater close to his body before _god damn_ cold snow was running down his spine. He was a resourceful fellow, shovelling the freezing slush down her many layers of poofy coat and tying the waist off with his hastily-removed scarf. Her dance removed her rather quickly from the snow, but no amount of jigging and stomping was getting the melt past the scarf tourniquet.

He took a long moment to appreciate his knack for tying a **very** tight knot.

She was still screeching and throwing a fit as he crawled to his feet, the snow melted and frigid against his entire back. Grabbing the scarf, he gave a firm tug in hopes of loosening it. Instead, she stumbled into him and there was a moment of delicious contrast, the cold behind him and her muted warmth against him. She must have felt the same because her body shuddered, eyes rolling back as they slid closed. He could even see the gasp of breath that left her.

He wanted to stoop down, kiss her blushed cheeks and fluttering eyelids; trace her jawline with his lips until he found her beating pulse. His hands twitched against her hips, urging to slide under the down coat until he could hook fingers in her belt loops-

He shrieked as her hands followed his thoughts, snaking into his jacket and under his sweater until ice-cold fingers spanned his sides. Jerking back and shooting her the most betrayed look he could, he was met with a bold grin and an even bolder wink. Now his eyes rolled, hard enough that his mother could probably see it behind him, and he caught her arm.

"Ye think this is over, Tough Girl, but th' vacation's only begun."

She batted those gorgeous honey eyes at him, which was when his mother stepped up to the doorway with a wide smile and welcoming sweep of her arm. He was ignored in favour of Marianne's hand as Griselda drew her inside. "Here, here, get out of the cold. _You're_ Marianne?" Griselda's face was still alight with glee, but a critical edge held. He felt a brief surge of worry; the awkward encounter with Dawn was still hovering in his memory, but surely there was only so much damage the woman could do in one sitting.

Stepping back, managing a tight smile at the slightly frowning Dagda, he observed the women. Griselda was circling Marianne not unlike a vulture, and there was a brief moment after she nodded decisively that Bog thought this meeting would go off without another bumbling moment.

"She's pretty skinny, does she know babies are born big in this family?"

And oh god no it could get much, much worse. Marianne's face had gone scarlet, which looked pale next to the vivid purple of Dagda's. Clapping his hands on his mother's shoulders he quickly turned her, steering her further into the house. Her screeches of complaint went ignored as he took her the necessary short distance. "Le's jus put ye back here, yeah..." Gently ushering her into the kitchen and closing the door soundlessly, he donked his forehead against the surface.

Turning around had never been as hard as it was that moment, not even when he'd tripped on his way to the front of the class in gradeschool to give a speech. The moment was saved by, of all things, a dainty hand resting on the crease of his arm. Looking down he was met with those honey eyes, understanding even if they were laughing at his misfortune silently.

"We have about ten seconds before my dad either breaks down or explodes, and you owe me a tour and explanation."

Opportunity seized he caught her hand, giving a firm yank as the pair bolted away from the mudroom and straight through an expansive dining area. Desperately veering to the right (anything to stay away from his mother's lair in the kitchen), they followed the wide hall. A strangled noise chased them, but the lack of footsteps had them slowing down before long, breath needed for laughter as opposed to sprints. A wide-eyed Dawn flattened against the wall as they moved past, still at a respectable pace, and she abruptly rolled her eyes.

"Are you guys breaking down Dad's mentality again? Oh my god you _actually are!_ Marianne he is so going to return your gift!"

Marianne took a hard left, yanking him along for the ride, and he found himself spun against the wall in the new room. Her body was suddenly pressed against his, thankfully more affectionate than sexual as she nuzzled into his sweater. "I've got the best gift ever right here, I think I'll be good."

His smile was warm, one he usually only allowed her to see, as his arms looped tightly around her.

She did still punch him as he relaxed, fire waking up in that gaze. "A gift that better start talkin', pal. I wanna know _everything."_

###### 

Dawn sauntered out of the hall, shaking her head at the muffled voice further down. Knowing she'd find her father in quite the state, she merely approached and hugged him tight. "I know it's really strange-" What seemed like a mix between a whimper and a growl answered that, "-to see Marianne so happy. Especially after all she's been through."

She knew her father well enough to see he was struggling with the concept. She could understand, after all; Bog was still quite the new thing in Marianne's life, romantically speaking. And even if it was absolutely adorable, she'd been there from nearly start to finish, whereas her dad had spent a bit seeing Marianne upset from their fight before she was suddenly kissing the guy. And now they were in his home, jarring enough, with a mother that seemed a bit eager to hook her son up. Dawn wasn't ignorant, she'd heard the 'dating site' comment. Sometimes things were just easier if you didn't respond to outside influence, in her opinion. If people thought you were an airhead, they took you for an airhead and that worked in her favour more often than not. Besides, the painting she'd seen up the hall had been _gorgeous _. She could feel Dagda sigh in her hug, a hand raising to hold her close. "I- _understand_ \- that she's happy. But don't you feel like this is all moving quite fast, especially after the whole... Roland Incident?"__

Thinking of Marianne's radiant smile, Bog's snarling grin even as he laughed at their silly antics, she took her turn to sigh. "Honestly, Daddy, I don't think it's moving fast _enough._ "

###### 

Part of me totally hopes this is like, the chapter that I hate and everyone else is strangely cool with. Next chapter will be a lot more dialogue, since Boggy-Woggy has to spill, and Griselda is not a woman to listen quite so easily to her son. She and Dagda totally get along, no worries.

Also Collessie is a real place, in Fife, Scotland. It's just a tiny town, and the house I'm basing this off of is the Kirkbrae house. Should any of you check the floor plans, yes I made the kitchen enclosed.


End file.
